


Stuck on the Edge

by Centarious



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Byleth loves her soft hubby, Edging, Established Relationship, F/M, No Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, dimitri continues to be soft for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centarious/pseuds/Centarious
Summary: She was suffocating him, she knew it. Drowning him in everything all at once, and he could hardly stay above water, hardly get in anything but a gasp of wet air before she sucked him back down, stealing him like a siren as she cooed sweet songs into his ears, red to the tips.She just couldn't decide whether she wanted to drown him or set him free.





	Stuck on the Edge

Sticky sweat honeyed Dimitri's body like a mead. The sight of him, glazed in the midnight moon, trembling and keening- whimpering, as Byleth pumped him was intoxicating. The sounds, the feel of him as he arched into her touch, his breaths short, words chopped and incoherent save for her name, save for, please, an addiction that had been brimming for months

His moan was shuddering, quaking like his hips as he arched into her brutal touch, harsh in it's feather-softness, cruel in how fleeting it was. Fickle, like her desire to bring him to his brink and push him over or tease him till the edge of his pleasure was sharp enough to cut. 

Byleth couldn't even find it in herself to remember how they'd gotten this far- couldn't think if it was his hand at her hip or her fingers on his neck as she told him in such a sweet, innocent voice how good of a job he'd been doing on his work at the end of the day. How good he was. 

"Good boy," she whispered, teeth bared at his throat as he writhed- as he let out a moan, the sound a blurred line between pleasure and pain, a whisper and a scream.

Maybe it had been at dinner when Sylvain had teased her- teased them both about the sounds he'd heard the night before, ribbing Dimitri for easing such noises from his wife. Maybe it had been when she'd sipped her wine, gazing over her cup at Dimitri, a promise that the noises "she" had been making would make a return. 

How Sylvain would have reddened at the sound he made as she circled the tip of his cock, slickened by precum and oil, throbbing and painfully red. 

Oh, but maybe it had been when they'd finally made it back to their rooms, tired from the noble visits and the quorum meetings, full of delicious food and too teased from wine and innuendo from close friends- too riled up. Like when Dimitri asked so politely if he could have her between soft kisses. Like when he pressed her against the bed and added a new mark to her personal collection upon her neck.

Or maybe, it had been when she'd flipped them, pinned him, and pumped him till he could hardly breathe.

The hand she'd settled on his wrists, pinning them above his head tightened. The breath he sucked in was scalding, one bleary, utterly rugged eye cracking open in pure desperation.

"Please-" he croaked twisting to get more, to milk one more ounce of pleasure before she- "Please-" before whimpering as she released him, his wrists jerking on instinct to touch himself, to finish what she'd denied him for so long before giving in to her easy, light grip. He bucked for nothing, found purchase only in cold air and empty space as she pressed down upon his hip, holding down that beast of a man with hardly more than a fingertip.

Holding him down with the hope of praise alone. 

"Are you going to be good for me and stay still?" she asked, nipping along his collarbone as he heaved for breath, sucking in gasps as though he were drowning- nodding, feverishly, if a little weakly now.

"Yes." The word nothing more than broken glass and gravel paths. "Yes. Yes, please." Obeying despite what she knew to be painful restraint, painful release so close but so far away. She was suffocating him, she knew it. Drowning him in everything all at once. 

Too much. Too little. Not enough. More than enough.

She knew he could hardly stay above water, hardly get in anything but a gasp of wet air before she sucked him back down, stealing him like a siren as she cooed sweet sweet songs into his ears, red to the tips. 

Byleth just couldn't decide whether she wanted to drown him or set him free.

He'd always been eager to touch. Always been eager to please, but to take pleasure had always been a point of... hesitation through their endeavors. His insistence to instead bring her to her brink. To pull her away when she tried to touch him when he had yet to do the same for her first.

But she had eased him into the idea of being the focus, slowly but surely gotten him comfortable with her tongue on his length and her hand on his head. 

She'd always seen the look in his eyes. Saw how he melted at touch, moaned at the smallest of intimate brushes against his heartstrings. 

She couldn't help but spoil him when he'd finally let her take that step in pleasing him. Milk every drop of his pleasure some nights, hold and stroke and love till he was seven shades of bashful on others. Soft or aggressive in how she spoiled him- now she couldn't tell if this was as much as a gift as she'd planned.

Couldn't tell how much of it was his own pleasure or hers, coiling from each delicious sound he made, burning with each finger gripping the bedsheets, flaming with every time he begged her to go on, but did not utter the safeword. Didn't rip away from her meager restraints and finish the job himself when he had enough strength to bring Castle Fhridiad down around them with one finger.

When he gave in wholly to her and let her do whatever she wanted. 

And wasn't that truth enough a sign that it was time to spoil him rotten?

"Good boy," she whispered and curled her fingers around his cock, throbbing, aching, tortured and desperate for release. His moan was more like a sob as she brought her head down, drawing her tongue up his length. Vulgar as a scream, sweet as a held hand, as his own found purchase in hers, slipping from her restraint to thread their fingers together; press oh so delicately into the skin as the other fisted the sheets hard enough to rip.

She pulled back, one hand ravaging him as the other slipped up his writhing, sweat-slicked body to push back the fringe plastered on his forehead, to see that beautiful face sweetened in ecstasy. He arched into the touch- into it all.

"Can I-" he sobbed, breath trembling, hips shaking, heart thundering, "Please- please can I-" Chopped by a wheezing inhale as she quickened her pace.

Hot breath ghosted his ear as she leaned in. Her words a release to a beautiful hex. "Come for me."

Timeless, endless words that broke skin, hoarsened voices,rung ears, and turned Dimitri Alexandre Bladdyd into nothing but a moaning, seething mess, his release strong enough to make even Byleth see white as he bucked into her- as he keened into her mouth. 

Seed spilled from his cock, slickening him further as she eased him through his electric release, back arched away from the bed, his heels digging into mattress, toes curled. Whispering softly sweet nothings and delicious praise she held him as he vaulted over that edge, soothing circles into his arms when a second wave hit him just as hard as the first. 

Magnetic his pleasure was, drawing her to him and fitting her perfectly as his muscles slowly relaxed; as his breath eased from harsh gasps to a slow breeze and he sunk into the mattress like a rock in water.

Settling, like a great giant.

Her heart did the same when those strong arms curled around her middle and nestled her against his chest, the fit there perfect. Soft, small "I love you's" and red-rose compliments as he pressed gentle nips and kisses to what skin he could reach.

His nails drew up her skin, and she pulled the covers over them, her skin already prickling in the cold of Fhirdiad.

"You did so well," she uttered, shifting to see that pleased, wonder-filled grin plastering his flushed cheeks, looking so much younger in the soft light of her love.

Breathless his laugh was. "I think all the praise should go to you, beloved," he croaked. His hands smoothed down her shoulders. "I feel a bit spoiled."

"That was the point," she said, pressing a kiss to his prickly chin. "Though, if you feel only a bit spoiled," she drew her mouth down to lave at his throat, "I feel I didn't exceed your expectations." Her fingers, settled at his chest, traced down where their skin touched. Her leg eased between his own, and the breath he released, oh, it was pure fire to her.

"Do you know what would make me feel wholly spoiled?" he asked, sitting up, pooling the blankets at her waist like his fingers as she shifted to lounge in his lap, something stirring there.

He leaned forward, easily pressing her to the sheets, easily shadowing over her, that icy eye sending cold pleasure into her core as he leaned to her ear, his breath hot. "I'd feel so wholly spoiled, beloved," he breathed, his fingers dipping down, down, down, "if you allowed me to return the favor of what you've given me." A breath tore from her throat as he pressed into her. "Every minute of it."

And she was sure Sylvain would truly be commenting about her noises in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Ding ding ding, chefs in, smut smoking hot for the reader at table 69.


End file.
